NABC Chapter 75's arrogant analysis shocked Ferguson.
Chapter 75's arrogant analysis shocked Ferguson.
The car was parked in front of the Sofitel Lyon Hotel.
Zhang Kuang looked up at the upscale hotel in the city center, took a deep breath, and opened the car door.
Jonathan followed behind him, holding a folder containing Zhang Kuang's complete data reports for the season and some personal information.
In the elevator, he looked at his reflection in the mirror—a black casual suit, a white shirt, and no tie. This was what Jonathan had prepared for him, saying, "You can't dress too casually when you meet Ferguson."
But he knew in his heart that Ferguson wouldn't care what he wore. However, in Europe, the "gentlemanly style" of "dressing formally when meeting important people" was very popular, so he just went with the flow.
What the old Scottish man really cared about was whether you could score a goal.
And arrogance is possible.
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Knock on the door.
The door opened.
It wasn't Ferguson who opened the door, but a middle-aged man in his forties, wearing glasses, a dark blue suit, and holding a notebook.
"Mr. Zhang?" The man extended his hand. "I'm Mike Phelan, assistant coach of Manchester United."
Zhang Kuang shook his hand: "Hello."
"Please come in." Ferran stepped aside and pointed towards the suite's living room. "The gentleman is waiting for you inside."
Zhang Kuang walked into the living room.
Ferguson sat on the sofa, a pot of tea and two cups on the coffee table in front of him. He wore a dark polo shirt, his gray hair was neatly combed, and the wrinkles on his face appeared particularly deep in the soft hotel lighting.
He stood up, walked forward, and smiled as he reached out to shake Zhang Kuang's hand.
"Zhang, thank you for coming. You are one of my most admired players. Please have a seat."
"Thank you for your appreciation, Jazz. Actually, there's not much to appreciate about me, except for scoring a few goals."
"Haha, it's most admirable when a striker scores a goal."
The atmosphere at the meeting was fairly good, and Zhang Kuang sat down opposite him.
Jonathan sat next to Zhang Kuang, and Ferran sat next to Ferguson. Four people, two sofas, and a pot of tea.
Ferguson picked up the teapot, poured two cups of tea, pushed one towards Zhang Kuang, and kept the other for himself.
"You're Chinese, this is a famous Chinese tea that I specially found for you. I think it's called Longjing. Try it and see if it's authentic."
Ferguson showed great sincerity by even preparing Chinese-style tea.
Zhang Kuang nodded. He didn't know much about tea either. He smelled it, took a sip, and nodded again.
"It's Longjing tea. It has a fragrance of orchids and beans, fresh and natural, like the scent of a spring field. This is the most unique aroma of Longjing tea. This aroma proves that the tea is authentic."
The initial taste is fresh, sweet, and mellow without any astringency; the texture is full and smooth, leaving a lingering fragrance and a long-lasting sweet aftertaste. Excellent tea, Jazz, this box is top-grade Chinese Longjing tea.
"Wow, no wonder you're so popular with girls. You really know a lot about culture and art. There are probably very few football players as knowledgeable as you."
"Ha, thank you for your praise, Sir. I am Chinese, and you have Chinese tea. I am just taking advantage of my own culture. If you bring me a wine from the Left Bank, I can't help you distinguish it. After all, I don't know much about wine."
"Generous but not arrogant, not bad, not bad. You scored three goals today," Ferguson said, his tone as calm as if he were commenting on the weather.
"The third goal, from the backfield to the frontfield, forty meters, a direct shot without stopping the ball. I've seen many strikers, but it's extremely rare to find one with your ability at eighteen, so I really like you and want to work with you, which is why I was eager to talk to you."
Zhang Kuang picked up his teacup and took a sip.
"Thanks."
"I'm not praising you." Ferguson put down his teacup, leaned forward slightly, and stared directly at Zhang Kuang. "I heard you're usually very lazy in training, and you won't train for even a minute longer than necessary. How do you still have this ability?"
Zhang Kuang put down his teacup and met Ferguson's gaze.
"Talent," he said. "There's nothing you can do about it; God just feeds you."
"Impossible," Ferguson shook his head and said. "Talent is only reflected in agility and awareness on the ball, not in strength. Strength, technique, and speed all require a lot of training to develop."
Zhang Kuang remained calm.
"Training volume isn't everything," he said. "My performance on the field is what matters most. My training may seem extremely intensive to you, but I perform well on the field. That's a fact, even if it seems unreasonable. So we have to admit that this is my personal talent."
Ferguson stared at him for three seconds, then laughed.
That smile wasn't just polite or courteous; it was an expression of appreciation that said, "I've seen countless geniuses, and you're one of the more interesting ones."
"Do you dare to challenge yourself in the Premier League?" Ferguson asked.
Zhang Kuang shook his head.
Ferguson's expression changed slightly.
"It's not that I'm afraid to challenge in the Premier League, but there aren't any teams I want to join. I want a team that can consistently win the title, and it's hard to find a team with that kind of dominance in the Premier League."
"Isn't Manchester United a team that can keep winning titles?" Ferguson laughed.
"Manchester United has always been very dominant, but as far as I know, you are about to resign. Without Ferguson, Manchester United will only be a second-tier team in the Premier League. In the future, Manchester United may hover between mid-table and relegation, and completely become a mid-table team. Such a Manchester United is not the one I am considering."
"Hmm? How did you know I was planning to... Well, it's true that the media has reported it, and I've considered it too. But I haven't made up my mind yet."
"You said Manchester United would become a second-rate team after I resign? How did you make that judgment? On what basis?" Ferguson was surprised that an 18-year-old Chinese player would make such a prediction about the powerful Manchester United.
Zhang Kuang laughed: "Why is Manchester United so strong? Is it just because you, Sir Alex, have top-notch European skills and tactics? Your tactics are nothing new among top coaches. They've been around for decades, and everyone has already figured them out."
What makes Manchester United truly strong is their ability to control the dressing room, the management, and the owner, and their ability to find the right solutions when the team faces difficulties.
Sir, if you weren't at Manchester United, who do you think could do all this? Who? Do you think the Manchester United management would give another manager the same authority as you?
Once another head coach loses the power you have, what will he rely on to control the locker room? What will he rely on to pressure management to bring in suitable players?
If another head coach suffers a defeat, he will be criticized and dismissed by everyone from the locker room to the management, the media, and the fans.
So this is the future of Manchester United: an out-of-control dressing room, a management team that makes a mess of things after finally taking power, angry fans, and media that interfere too much in the team's affairs.
Every failure has a scapegoat. Will the players take the blame? Will the management take the blame? Will the media take the blame? And the fans certainly won't. Therefore, no matter how renowned a manager is, coming to Manchester United is a dead end; there is no other way.
"..."
Ferguson was shocked, and not only Ferguson, but also Mike Fran and Jonathan were shocked, because they had an almost certain belief in the future that Zhang had described.